


Errands

by zanier



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: APH England x Reader, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13558803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanier/pseuds/zanier





	1. Chapter 1

Escaping household chores did not exactly mean having free time to do someone else’s.

It was ten in the morning when Y/N was reminded by her mother to wash the dishes they used for breakfast, but her idea of doing more in one go affected her decision to just wash them with those they would use for lunch as if they had different set of plates and utensils to be used in the afternoon.

Wanting to go out for a while because it was finally weekend – a short break from school responsibilities, which also meant more time at home to be asked around by family members – Y/N volunteered to do the grocery shopping alone and rushed to their gate before being reminded of the dishes for the third time.

It would take Y/N only fifteen to twenty-five minutes to walk to the grocery store, but she walked so slow to enjoy that specific freedom. She had been walking for twenty minutes or so, but she was now even farther from the mart, for she walked to the opposite direction.

Peeking through the well-maintained rose bushes surrounding the luxurious property, Y/N carefully searched for the guardian. And there he was on his usual spot not easily seen from the street; sitting on an iron chair beside an iron table with a cup of probably tea, two opened and three closed books, and some writing materials.

It was a fancy for Y/N to see their handsome British neighbor whose Gothic house was just some few lots away from their home.

It had been almost a year since Y/N’s family moved to that place, and ever since, she heard mysterious rumors about a grumpy guardian of the gothic house. And so whenever she had free time to wander around the neighborhood, weekdays or some days before going home from school, she would sometimes purposely go by another route where she could pass by the gothic house, so she could not be thought of as a creep or criminal plotting something. And she would already be delighted upon seeing the handsome Brit being grumpy about something she could not know from the street, but she would just smile to herself knowing that the grumpy guardian was a handsome British man. Perhaps it was his mysterious green eyes underneath an even more mysterious pair of giant eyebrows that gave the impression of him being an unearthly grumpy guardian.

Some said he was a doctor, others, a respected professor. Y/N sometimes imagined him as her professor, and she would immediately thank the heavens that it was not her reality, for she was sure she could not focus on the class; having two handsome German professors was already too much. Knowing the British man from behind the rose bushes of his garden without getting caught by anyone was enough.

But perhaps some people were just not very good at hiding, and so Y/N was caught; first by some giant thorn hidden by the healthy leaves of the bush, then by a droplet of red from the wound on her hand to a white blossom. Maybe if she was not busy looking at the tainted petal and gasping in surprise, she could have noticed the guardian approaching her.

_‘Who’s been painting my roses red?’_ was the first song, rather, thought that came to Y/N’s mind. She was not prepared to get caught. “I was just about to go to the grocery shop.”

Confusion was evident on the handsome face of the man. His green eyes were more beautiful up close and they looked calmer than when being watched from afar.

“Wow.” Y/N did not realize she was loudly expressing her awe. He might not be the most handsome man on earth, for there were really many good-looking people around, but indeed he looked the most magical so far of all the people Y/N met. “It’s the guardian!”

The man looked more confused, but spoke anyway in an accent that seemed to hypnotize Y/N. “May I help you?”

Y/N sure agreed that British accent was good, but she did not know it could sound that lovely. With only a few words, she seemed to have been captured by the spell of the guardian.

“Are you alright?” The man spoke again as Y/N was just staring at him, and it was making him uncomfortable. Observing Y/N’s position, her hand holding her other hand carefully, he noticed the fresh wound. “Oh, you’re hurt! Let me get the first aid kit.”

Y/N did not exactly know what to do. She was not invited inside, nor to follow him. Should she wait from her spot? Or should she just finally go to the grocery store? She just stood there and waited.

The man arrived shortly and seemed surprised to see Y/N still standing outside. “Oh, sorry, please come in.” He sounded a little hesitant to actually invite a stranger into his house; not exactly inside the house, but to his usual garden spot.

Hypnotized Y/N followed without any objection. It was just a small wound, but she did not mind it being tended by a stranger, or rather, by someone she fancied watching from afar. Finally realizing her carefreeness, she carefully pulled back her hand with alertness. “Thank you. Sorry for wandering around your bush.”

Perhaps it was just not a good timing saying “bush” while looking at the man’s eyebrows, but the Brit just decided to ignore it. “Do you need something?”

His tone suddenly sounded rushed. Maybe he was not comfortable having a stranger in his property. Y/N suddenly remembered her postponed errand. “I need to go to the grocery. Do you need something?”

The handsome man looked even more confused. He was starting to think this was a fraud, but he remained calm. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry. I just noticed you never left your house. I mean, I can buy you supplies if you want. Not my money, of course. Just in case you need something right now.” Y/N could sometimes be super friendly that she herself was not even sure if simply being ‘friendly’ was the right term to describe her.

“I’m sorry, but are you an idiot? You are asking a stranger if he has something to ask you to buy for him? What kind of scam is this?” The British man looked at Y/N almost judgingly.

“I just want to be a good neighbor, okay? I live just some lots away from here.” Y/N almost thanked the man for giving the right description.

He studied her from head to toe as if he was observing an unwanted alien specimen. “Nothing. I have all the supplies I need. Thank you. You may go now.” His face was of confused annoyance as he returned the first aid supplies to its box.

Y/N stood up embarrassed and proud of herself. “Alright. Thanks again and see you next time!”

_Next time? What the hell?_ The man did not say it out loud. He just irritatingly watched as she walked away fast, and shook his head before getting busy again with what was making him grumpy.

 

Nervously entering their gate with shopping bags on her arms, the door was opened for Y/N.

“We just ate lunch.” Her mother greeted her with a questioning look while helping her with the grocery bags.

Y/N just smiled as if it could answer her mother’s unspoken question. But her mother looking at her tended wound would definitely not save her from giving a reply. Y/N scratched her head for a decent answer. “Walked around the neighborhood, got this scratch from a rose thorn, owner saw me and took out the first aid kit.” Y/N sometimes wondered if being always honest would do her good; she just could not lie, rather, very lazy to think of a good lie. And perhaps it was good after all –being honest, for her mother did not ask any more questions.


	2. Chapter 2

Being an ornithologist could be fascinating and frustrating at the same time. With Arthur wanting to prove the existence of a mythical bird, he was lucky to have inherited the gothic house where he had first encountered the bird in his grandfather’s things. He could still clearly recall how his late grandfather, who was a great ornithologist himself, showed to the young Arthur his field journals and adventure-spilled papers bound into books with random accounts on the mythical bird and other already proven ones, but Arthur just could not remember which notebook, or book, or any bounded paper contained the specific information he needed. He was so fascinated, as a child, on its wonders; dreaming that someday he would find the mythical bird himself, which inspired him to follow the footsteps of his grandfather. And having read not even half of the books in his grandfather’s underground secret library for two years did not lead him to his desired information. However, having intently read those books he already finished gave him more knowledge about his field that he never learned from the university, but despite of these further understanding, grumpy Arthur was grumpy Arthur.

Having the unexpected guest three weeks after their first meeting made him realize he could feel more emotions: annoyance, irritation, alertness, and even more grumpiness. But Arthur was a gentleman, so it would just be proper to invite the familiar lady to his garden for a cup of tea. “You’re here again.” Arthur calmly said as he sipped from his own cuppa.

“Yep. Sorry to disturb you. Well, actually, I was just wondering if you want any help?” Y/N tried to sound helpful. It was a usual problem for her to sound like it because she sounded very confident, sometimes even arrogant, which was usually misunderstood by other people. Perhaps because of the way she spoke, the way she acted – confident; not all people liked confident people. She would always want to help someone, just one person after another, not a group, especially someone who caught her attention and interest, but she would always be misinterpreted as boasting her free time and positivity. Just like one time she noticed how one of her classmates seemed to be always asleep in class and she offered her notes, and though the person was grateful for her help, the other classmates started a rumor of her trying to act cool while flirting. She could not tell them she just felt bad for the sleepy Spaniard. She could not tell them there were times before that she was also in need of studying materials, but because of having no acquaintance from any of her classes, she was anxious to ask anybody if she could borrow their notes. She just said “You’re welcome” when the Spaniard returned her notebook with a “Thank you”.

“No, thank you, but I don’t need any help.” The British man replied while his big brows furrowed a little because of his secret confusion at their situation. He did not even know the person in front of him drinking the tea he offered.

“I just noticed you’re always busy and looked so grumpy. So I thought you’d need some help.” Y/N’s ways could sometimes be easily misunderstood as simply bothering people, and it was what the British man actually felt, that he was being disturbed, pestered by a stranger. He was still assessing how to gentlemanly shoo the woman away but she spoke again. “I’m Y/N by the way. I live just around here. You’re quite famous here. I heard about a grumpy guardian guarding this beautiful house. I was really curious so I went here.” Y/N was careful enough to not mention how often she felt curious and walked slowly outside the property to get a decent look at the grumpy guardian while denying to herself she was acting like a creepy stalker; she believed she was not, and that she was just a curious neighbor.

But the Brit assumed she was a creepy stalker. _Always busy? Always? How did she know? And a famous grumpy guardian? What the hell was that? Those idiot neighbors._ But he was a gentleman. “I see. My name is Arthur.”

“May I call you Arthur? Or Doctor Arthur? Professor Arthur?”

It sounded good in Arthur’s ears. “I am still taking my Master’s. I think Arthur is alright.” Arthur was suddenly comfortable enough to almost boast.

“Wow! Sorry, but how old are you? Honestly, I thought you’re an old grumpy man who just looks young and mature at the same time.” Y/N could now understand the still young appearance of the famous grumpy guardian, who, by the name he was known for, might usually be assumed as a really old man.

Arthur could not help but cringe in annoyance. How could a stranger who was apparently just a neighbor simply say things the way she did? But he answered anyway. “I’m twenty-three.”

“You’re just two years older than me! I’m graduating this year, by the way!” Y/N sounded so excited.

“Congratulations.” Arthur was still thinking how to gentlemanly send his neighbor away.

Y/N looked at her watch and gently set down her now empty cup. “I shall go to the grocery store now. Do you need anything?”

“None.” He did not even pretend to think, for there was no reason to do so; his neighbor Y/N was straightforward, and so was he.

Y/N stood up. “Alright. Just tell me if you need something, okay? Bye! Thanks for the tea! Until next time, Arthur!” And she walked outside while she casually waved a friendly goodbye to her neighbor.

Arthur forced a smile and sighed when Y/N was no longer in sight. “What is wrong with her? What is wrong with this neighborhood?” He tried to focus on the books, but he was greatly disturbed, and so he just tended the garden and thought to himself that perhaps it was not so bad to be disturbed from being grumpy. And perhaps he could someday make use of an errand person. He then thought to go to the kitchen. There was still enough ingredients for the scones he suddenly became excited of making for an expected guest next time.


End file.
